


Casualties

by icedteainthebag



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-06
Updated: 2009-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-21 19:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/228571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They come together when they're lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casualties

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place immediately after Sometimes A Great Notion. It's not really happy, because, well, it's after Sometimes A Great Notion.

**Title:** Casualties  
 **Author:** [](http://icedteainthebag.livejournal.com/profile)[**icedteainthebag**](http://icedteainthebag.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing:** Laura/Lee  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Summary:** They come together when they're lost.  
 **Word count:** 2,680  
 **Spoilers:** through Sometimes A Great Notion  
 **Author's Notes:** This fic takes place immediately after Sometimes A Great Notion. It's not really happy, because, well, it's after Sometimes A Great Notion.

x x x x

  
Kara left Lee in Colonial One staring at the census board, yet another battle lost.

Kara had no answers as to why Dee blew her brains out all over her locker.

Nobody has any answers, only more questions, and frak if he isn't tired of questions that never have any answers.

He hears the door to the cabin open behind him and doesn't move. He can sense her presence and he sets his jaw to keep the threat of tears at bay.

"I'm sorry about Dee," she says quietly, her voice stricken with pain, an unexpected, unusual tone for her, though he knows there are plenty of reasons for her to be hurting.

He folds his arms across his body more tightly when he feels her touch his shoulder blade. She stands beside him and he catches her profile out of the corner of his eye. "Lee."

"Laura." It's been too long since he's spoken her name, just her first name, yet it slips so softly and easily past his lips. It makes his heartbeat race, makes his cheeks flush. He wants to blame the remnants of the drinks it took him to recover from the Quorum meeting. He'd been so full of false idealism it nauseated him. He’d told them lies, gave them false hopes, to rebuild their faith in something bigger than the shattered Earth they’d discovered.

"I don't know what to do." Her voice is soft.

He sighs deeply. "What have we lost, Laura? We didn't have anything to begin with. The prophecies, a pipe dream, a frakkin' fantasy. Mythology. That's all it was, that's all it came to be. Here we are again, and I just preached to a very disillusioned Quorum some frakkin' bullshit about forging our own way, about fulfilling our own destinies."

Her hand is still on his back. He hears her draw a shaky breath.

"I believed it," she murmurs. "I believed it, and you did too, Lee. And we don't know what to do with ourselves now that it's gone."

Lee turns his head to look at her and she's staring at the board.

"Dad's frakkin' losing it," he says, and he doesn't know why he says it, nor why he says it with such frustration--he knows it's irrational to expect his father to be okay when the entire fleet is falling apart.

"We're all frakkin' losing it."

Her dark hair frames her face, makes her edges seem harder. This isn't the Laura Roslin he met long ago, the Laura who could smile through her tears, who could pull strength from devastation, whose eyes would dance on a challenge.

He shouldn't expect that of her. He isn't the same person, either.

"What do we do?" Laura asks. She doesn't look away from the board. "Lee...frak this, this shouldn't be happening, not like this."

He hears her tears before he sees them. She tries desperately to hide--her hand leaves his back and her shaking fingers wipe at tears as she turns away from him.

His throat constricts. She doesn’t need him to cry right now.

He puts his hand on her shoulder and walks in front of her. She tries to laugh, because Laura always tries to laugh when somebody sees her cry.

"Hey," he says softly as he cups her cheek with his hand.

She looks up into his eyes, her own brimming with sadness. Her eyes are red, unshielded by her glasses. It's at this moment that his head is clear for the first time in hours.

Her lips part as his bows his head to kiss them.

It's soft, the brush of his lips over hers, not as furious or passionate as their first kiss long ago, not as tender as their second.

They come together when they're lost.

She pulls away and leans her head heavily into his palm, her eyes closed.

"I don't know." Her voice cracks and a sob escapes her. He hugs her and kisses the top of her head. He feels her cheek press onto his chest.

"Frak," he hisses through gritted teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut. He's holding her so tightly he's afraid he's going to crush her--she's so small in his arms, smaller and more delicate than she ever has been. "Dee, Gods damn it..."

Laura makes a small sound in the back of her throat and wraps her arms around his waist. "Don't think, Lee," she whispers, "Don't try to explain it, and don't blame yourself for any of it."

"You blame yourself for all of it," he murmurs.

She lifts her head to look at him and he opens his eyes to the soft warmth of her hands on the sides of his face. She pulls his head down and kisses him full on the mouth.

He kisses her back, lets her tongue slip past his lips, tentative as her eyes search his. She presses her body firmly into him and he knows she's trying to be strong, to prove she still has control over just one moment amid this chaos.

He runs his hands up her back--he can feel her vertebrae and her shoulder blades jutting out from under the skin that's meant to keep her all together, to cage everything inside.

Their kissing becomes more urgent, as it always used to, but it's been so long for them that it feels new to him all over again. He feels her fingertips reading the lines of his face and his neck as her lips bruise his. She captures his mouth again and again, breaking for ragged breaths, continuing, undaunted.

"Somewhere," he pants between their kisses, his hands moving down her sides. He feels her shiver.

"Same place," she answers breathlessly.

They have to stop kissing in order to make their way to her old makeshift quarters, where she used to stay before moving into his father’s quarters on Galactica.

Laura leads him there--they don't touch on this journey from one spot to another, he merely follows her as she pulls her jacket off and tosses it to the side of the room, a familiar gesture, and he follows suit with his own jacket.

Her back is turned as she pulls her shirt over her head and lets it drop to her feet. She's still and quiet as he walks up to her and runs his fingers down the now-prominent ridges of her back. He feels goose bumps rise on her skin as he slides his fingers up her sides, counting her ribs slowly, one by one.

"Don't, Lee," she says softly, though she's not entirely convincing. "I'm different. I know."

His hands move over her shoulders and he cups her breasts. She breathes out with a soft moan and leans into him. "I'm different too," he murmurs. "It's okay."

He is different, and it's more than physical differences since the last time he held her like this, the last time he tasted the salt of her shoulder, her collarbone, her neck. Her sighs sound the same, her body trembles at the same frequency as before. He breasts feel as heavy in his palms. But they are different people now, not young or idyllic, not smug or opportunistic. This hardly feels like the indulgence that it used to so long ago.

He takes off his dress shirt to feel the heat of her back against his chest. Her hair--her wig, not her hair, and it's hard for him to remember that--tickles his shoulder as she tilts her head to his mouth on her neck.

"It's too slow," she says, barely a whisper. She runs a hand down his arm. "I'm gonna start thinking and that's the last thing I wanna do."

He feels nervous butterflies in his stomach. "I... I don't want to hurt you."

Her chuckle is soft, the first time he's heard a real chuckle from her in such a long time. "You won't break me, Lee."

Laura turns to him and her arms snake around his neck, and they kiss as he works her bra off. Her hands trace feather-light lines on his chest, and he blushes because he knows his muscles aren't as defined as they used to be--they've both changed, he reminds himself as her bra drops to the floor and he feels her nipples harden against his chest, her mouth open against his, breathing his breath.

They make their way to the couch-turned-bed and sink onto the cushions, mouths hungry and desperate now, and their hands anxiously smooth over bare skin. All he can think of is how much he's missed the swirl of her tongue in his mouth, the soft hums of pleasure in the back of her throat, her scent, which was always just _Laura_ , a mixture of soap and skin and something unique he could never quite place.

She lies back and his eyes travel her body--the swell of her hip, the dip of her navel, her gorgeous breasts with dark nipples that he leans over and takes in his mouth, one at a time, as her fingernails rake over his scalp and her body twists with a moan. She tastes the same, and in this he is comforted.

She writhes more as he kisses her breasts, her torso, down to her waist to slide her pants and underwear down her slender legs.

"You're so beautiful," Lee whispers as he drinks in this image, her body revealed to him, bare and paler than he remembers. The dark shock of hair frames her features and her green eyes are fixated on him, her reddened lips parted with bated breath.

She smiles, a gentle one at that, and he wants her so much, despite knowing he shouldn't. He really shouldn't want her this much, because this beauty, he tells himself in a moment of brief clarity, is no longer his to cherish.

But she's Laura, and she's so beautiful.

Lee represses these thoughts as best he can as he removes his pants and boxers, all while keeping her gaze. She lets her legs drift apart, an invitation, and he kneels between them and presses his cheek against the inside of her thigh. He watches her bite her lip, her brow furrowed, and she looks like she wants to say something, but she can’t find the words.

“What is it?” he asks as he runs his fingers lightly between her legs. Her lips part and she takes a sharp, deep breath. She grabs the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, as she tugs his head away.

“Not that,” she whispers. “We can’t… I can’t do that with you any more.”

He tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut as he kisses the inside of her knee and nods--he understands why, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. She tries to smile at him and he sees her face crumble a little before she turns her head to the side.

Lee climbs over her and nuzzles her neck, then kisses her gently, nudging his mouth against hers.

“It’s okay,” he whispers onto her lips. “It’s okay. I know.”

“Thank you,” she answers softly, her fingers drifting through his hair.

“Should we stop?” he asks, kissing her bottom lip, holding his weight above her body.

She looks into his eyes and kisses him harder, pulling him down upon her body and running her foot up the back of his leg. Their kiss doesn’t end when he enters her gently, and she takes a sharp breath through her nose and whimpers against his mouth.

She's warm, the depth of her that surrounds him. He looks into her eyes as she breaks their kiss to pant and scrape her fingernails down his back. Her thighs press against his as he settles into her, their chests grazing.

"It's happened before," she whispers, and he thrusts into her once, slowly, then again, and her legs lock around his hips, pulling him deeper, her fingernails digging into his skin. "Oh, Gods, Lee, this feels so good."

Her words are soft and frantic and he presses his face into her neck, moving his body with her rhythm. "It does," he murmurs, the sensation of being inside her sending a shiver up his body.

Her body writhes, her hips catching his movements, her muscles tensing around him as they rock together slowly, their bodies pressed close. She's wrapped around him so tightly, inside and out, and he groans as sparks begin tingling at the base of his spine. It’s too soon, way too soon, but it's been too long and he’s tired of repressing. It hurts too much.

Lee feels her hand slip between them and he rises to give her better access to the junction of their bodies. She hisses as her fingers find what they're looking for, and he feels her circling, over and over, and she starts panting softly and whimpering. He watches her face, her look of concentration soon giving way to peace and relief as her body shudders under him, around him.

She does this quietly and the only sound in the room is her breath, even though her body twists violently under him.

He moves his hips against her, more intently now, and she hums her approval even as she tries to catch her breath. She removes her hand from between her legs and presses it against his lips--he kisses her fingers, her scent filling his senses, and he sucks them into his mouth while he moves, his thrusts quicker, cautiously harder.

"Lee, let go," she whispers, "Lee, let go with me, let go..."

She twists into his thrusts, capturing him, and he groans and feels his orgasm wrack his body hard. She cries out, her back arching, her legs tightening around his waist. He wants to sink deep, even more deeply inside of her.

Lee lies next to her on his side, as much as he can on this small space she’d been given so long ago. It was never good enough for a president, certainly isn’t good enough for her now. She turns on her side to face him and he slips his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

Their chests are damp as he kisses her nose, her eyebrow, her forehead. Her fingers drift down his arm and back up, and they seem to be tracing patterns but he can't tell what she is drawing, maybe even writing, and doesn't think it's his business to ask.

"When I found out I was sick," she murmurs as her fingers circle over his shoulder, "the second time, not the first, I felt like somebody'd taken my life right out of my hands. Like I'd stolen something and thought I'd gotten away with it, only to have it taken from me again."

He sighs deeply and presses his lips against the top of her head. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

She's silent for several minutes, her fingers still tracing his arm, her breathing soft.

"Lee, I really feel... I feel like happiness, for us now, for everyone now, is only a collection of these moments that we steal, and covet, and cherish until they're taken away again.” She looks into his eyes. “Only our memories are left. I have so many of them, and I’m still collecting them to this day. Memories of my family, of who I used to be, of the time when I was healthy, even if now, I feel my body fading."

"Laura," he starts, but she shakes her head and closes her eyes.

"Just remember her, Lee." She runs her fingers over the edge of his jaw, his lips. "That's all you have left. That's all any of us have left when something ends."

He closes his eyes and breathes her in.  
  



End file.
